🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter:3
The Weakest of the Best Village
“Huff! Huff!”
Myeon Jeong-hyuk’s breathing was rough.
He couldn’t get his mind straight.
“You… you bastard!”
That guy clearly didn’t know martial arts.
He clearly had no detectable energy.
There was no need to check his pulse to know that.
Whoosh—
But once again, Myeon Jeong-hyuk’s sword only cut through empty air.
“…!”
Perplexity spread across his face.
Just how many times had he swung and missed now?
The guy’s movements were bizarre.
It wasn’t footwork or lightness skill—nothing like that.
He merely twisted his body slightly or stepped back half a step.
But even with such tiny movements, he completely evaded Jeong-hyuk’s attacks with ridiculous ease.
Every time Jeong-hyuk thought he’d struck true, his blade only sliced through air.
“Wh-what in the world…”
At first, he thought it was coincidence—
like a crow flying by when a pear falls.
That’s what he believed.
At least until that damned brat started running his mouth.
“Wow. You’re really weak.”
“…What?”
“As I thought, martial artists are weak. And so slow.”
“…”
Forty years.
He had spent forty years of his life doing nothing but training.
Whenever he wasn’t performing family duties, he was cultivating.
And as a result, he’d come to be known as the strongest of the “Five Stars of Jilin.”
And yet this punk dared to call him weak?
Slow? No—terribly slow, if that brat’s foul mouth was to be believed?
“You little bastard!”
Jeong-hyuk leaped again, roaring.
But the result was the same.
His sword once again cleaved nothing but air.
Whoosh—
And immediately after—
‘Damn it…’
What drove him crazy the most was this moment—
the moment right after another swing missed.
“Wahaha! So slow. Incredibly slow.”
“…”
If only the brat would strike back.
If only he’d counter with some peerless movement technique—then maybe this humiliation wouldn’t be so unbearable.
“Wow, really slow.”
“So very slow, sir. Truly.”
“Wahaha. You’re so weak.”
“…”
But the brat refused to fight back.
He just stood there, smiling brightly, mocking him.
“Oh. Are you a turtle?”
“…”
Jeong-hyuk’s chest burned.
There was no killing intent, no inner energy, just ridicule—
but the emotional damage he took was worse than from the most sinister demonic sound technique.
Just today alone, he’d heard it dozens of times—
weak, slow, dull, sluggish, uselessly slow…
He suddenly felt forty years of his life collapse into emptiness.
What had he devoted himself to all this time?
To be mocked by some snot-nosed brat barely twenty?
“You’re really slow.”
“…”
Crack.
But Myeon Jeong-hyuk wasn’t one to just take it lying down.
He was one of the Five Stars of Jilin.
Now he would unleash the secret technique that earned him that title—
the Myeon Family’s ultimate skill, Blue Dragon’s Single Flash (Cheongnyong Ilseom).
A single thrust that pierced the enemy clean through.
The Myeon family’s art specialized in speed.
Once the brat witnessed this, he’d never again dare to call him slow.
Even a scion of the Huashan Sect had fled before this very strike.
Jeong-hyuk gathered his energy into the acupoints in his feet and elbows.
It would leave his legs fractured for months, but he no longer cared.
He couldn’t let that mocking face smirk another second.
He drew his sword back fully.
“I’ll make sure you can never flap that vile tongue again!”
“My vile tongue?”
“You call people weak and slow to their faces!”
“You threatened to cut off my wrist to my face though.”
“…”
That damned mouth again!
There was no winning against him in words.
The brat might look naïve, but he was a master at getting under one’s skin.
Then there was no need for talk.
His technique was fully charged.
“Die!”
Jeong-hyuk lunged like lightning.
This time, the speed was on a different level.
The blue aura on his blade roared like a dragon taking flight—
And then—
Thunk—!
“…!”
His sword had pierced through Kang Yu.
Finally.
This time it was real.
His sword had passed clean through the brat’s chest.
“Keheheh.”
Jeong-hyuk burst out laughing in triumph, releasing all his pent-up frustration.
“Ha ha ha! You damned brat! How do you like—”
But—
Whoosh—
Kang Yu’s body began to fade from the chest outward, dissolving into mist.
Jeong-hyuk’s eyes widened in horror.
“T-this… Body Shift Technique (Yihyeonghwanwi)!?”
The ultimate level of movement—so fast it left an afterimage.
He had never seen it in person, but he knew of it.
Every martial artist did.
“N-no way… How could that be…”
The brat couldn’t be more than twenty.
How could he have reached such a realm?
Just then, a youthful voice came from behind him.
“Phew. If not for my ‘No-Snow Step,’ I would’ve been skewered.”
Jeong-hyuk turned his head.
“No what?”
Kang Yu clapped his hands together.
“Oh, right. You’re a martial artist, so you wouldn’t know.
There’s this thing called ‘No-Snow Step.’
Grandpa Mu taught me—it’s so you don’t get snow or rain on you.
He said you catch colds otherwise.”
The brat blurred again—
“Like this!”
“!”
Suddenly there were two afterimages of Kang Yu, one in front and one behind him.
Jeong-hyuk’s jaw dropped.
Meanwhile, Kang Yu looked upset.
“But I still get wet in the rain.
Grandpa Mu and the others in the village don’t—they say once your shadow splits into three, you don’t get wet anymore.
I can’t do that yet.
So whenever it rains, my shoulders get wet.
I can only dodge snow for now. Sigh.”
“…”
Jeong-hyuk stared blankly.
What in the world was he saying?
Dodging snow and rain?
Was he talking about that Yihyeonghwanwi technique just now?
And who taught him—some old man from his village?
Could such a heavenly movement technique be learned from a random village elder?
Well, maybe—just maybe—it was possible if he’d happened to meet a reclusive master.
But then he said his entire village could dodge rain?
The entire village?
“Ha…”
A hollow laugh escaped Jeong-hyuk’s lips.
At last, he understood.
He had been played.
That brat, pretending to be naïve and innocent, had toyed with him all along.
A whole village performing Yihyeonghwanwi?
Impossible!
The boy was clearly no ordinary person—
but he was also mocking him with nonsense again, just as before.
“Oh. Are you a turtle?”
Jeong-hyuk looked up at the sky, despairing.
“Ha…”
What were those forty years for?
He’d been called a genius, even if only in a remote province—
and yet here he was, made into a laughingstock by a child’s lies.
“Damn it all…”
His sword slipped from his hand.
Clang.
And then—
Pffft!
He coughed up blood.
The ridicule, the mockery, the humiliation—
they shattered everything he had ever built.
His mind had succumbed to inner demons.
‘D-damn it…!’
Realizing this, Jeong-hyuk hastily sat cross-legged.
It wasn’t safe to meditate here, but he had no choice.
If he didn’t calm his mind now, he’d either suffer energy deviation or die in this filthy alley.
“Uh, mister, are you okay?”
Kang Yu looked at him with concern.
He remembered the teachings of his village elders:
“An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
If someone harms you, return it equally.
That’s the unspoken rule outside the village, the way to protect yourself.”
But another elder had said:
“Fool, if someone harms you, you repay them double—
whether it’s kindness or vengeance, you always repay twice over.”
And the village scholar had added:
“In the Records of Xiang Yu, there’s a phrase—‘raising a tiger brings future calamity.’
Always eliminate danger before it grows.”
Kang Yu pondered all that while looking at Jeong-hyuk.
This man had threatened to cut off his wrist out of nowhere.
By the elders’ logic, he should at least cut off the man’s wrist in return.
But Kang Yu didn’t want to.
The man was too pitiful.
Surely the elders’ lessons didn’t apply to someone that weak.
Having made up his mind, Kang Yu untied his bundle and took out a wooden box—
the one he had brought from Mount Jiri.
“Great Return Pill (Daehwandan)”
When he opened the box, a sweet aroma filled the alley.
He picked up a pill and held it to Jeong-hyuk’s mouth.
“Mister, try eating this.”
“U-ugh!”
Jeong-hyuk recoiled in shock.
This damn brat—what trick now?
That sweet scent—clearly poison disguised with fragrance!
Given what the brat had done so far, it had to be.
He’d been fooled once. Never again.
This brat was no mere boy—he was a devil in human form!
Even while coughing blood, Jeong-hyuk clenched his jaw and refused the pill.
“Aish, come on.”
But Kang Yu didn’t give up.
He kept trying to feed it to him—shaking his shoulders, even pulling at his hair.
Yet Jeong-hyuk refused to open his mouth.
In the struggle, the pill crumbled to powder.
Some stuck to Jeong-hyuk’s lips, most fell to the ground and mixed with blood and dirt.
“Seriously, this guy…”
Kang Yu frowned.
Even though Grandpa Baek made them easily, the ingredients were hard to find—
moss from Tianchi Lake on Mount Changbai, tiger scales shed in the forest…
“Are you really not gonna eat it?”
He pouted.
Martial artists were so petty.
They threatened to cut off people’s wrists, then got sulky after being teased a bit.
“Jeez.”
When shaking him didn’t work, Kang Yu sighed, gave up, and re-tied his bundle.
Still, he couldn’t just leave.
So he placed another Great Return Pill on Jeong-hyuk’s knee.
“Eat it when you feel better.”
Then he looked up at the darkening sky.
It was time to go do the task the village elders had sent him for.
They’d said he could play around for a few days since it was his first time outside—
but he’d wasted too much time after getting lost on the first day.
“Hmm. Grandpa Dan said to go to the Namgung Clan first…”
He pictured the map of the Central Plains in his head.
Just then—
Growl.
His stomach rumbled.
Right. He hadn’t eaten since leaving Changbai Village.
Rubbing his stomach, Kang Yu muttered,
“Let’s eat first.”
He had plenty of travel money from the elders.
“They said if I want to eat outside the village, I should go to something called an inn.”
He blurred again—vanishing from sight—
leaving only Myeon Jeong-hyuk, cross-legged and trembling, behind in the dark alley.
Even half-delirious, Jeong-hyuk used his elbow to crush the pill on his knee.
That night—
“J-Jeong-hyuk!”
The Myeon Clan, the most powerful in Jilin, was thrown into chaos.
Their vice leader and top master, Myeon Jeong-hyuk, had returned on the brink of death.
After hearing the gamblers’ account, Clan Head Myeon Jeong-hoon trembled with rage.
“That damned bastard…!”
No one knew what trick the boy had used to cripple the clan’s best fighter,
but whatever it was, he’d gone too far.
Even with grudges between martial clans, there were lines you didn’t cross.
If someone was meditating to recover, you didn’t disturb them.
But according to the gamblers’ testimony—
the brat had shaken Jeong-hyuk, grabbed his hair, and tried to force-feed him something.
‘Wh-what? That wretch did what?’
‘Y-yes, sir. The Vice Master was meditating, but the boy kept shaking him and trying to feed him something… judging by how he resisted, it must’ve been poison…’
Crack!
The armrest shattered in Jeong-hoon’s grip.
Even the strongest martial artist was vulnerable while meditating.
To disturb someone channeling their qi was unforgivable.
And because of that interference, his brother’s meridians were now twisted beyond repair.
‘H-he’s a demon, brother. Don’t provoke him…’
Even near death, Jeong-hyuk had begged him not to seek revenge.
But how could he not?
The brothers had always been inseparable.
To let this pass would be to dishonor him—and to weaken the family’s standing in Jilin.
“You there!”
Jeong-hoon called for the chief steward.
“You summoned me, sir?”
“The item we received from Lord Wi—there’s no issue with it, right?”
“You mean that item?”
“Yes, that.”
“It’s stored safely in the armory.”
“Bring it. Now.”
“…At once.”
When the steward left, Jeong-hoon walked to the window.
His brother was the clan’s strongest warrior.
If even he had fallen so easily, their opponent was no ordinary man.
A direct assault would be reckless.
Then the only path left was to fight poison with poison.
The boy had used poison first, so they would respond in kind.
And conveniently, they possessed something that even the Tang Clan would fear—
a toxin acquired from the Poison Valley.
Formless Poison.
Colorless, odorless, tasteless—
just a single drop was said to kill an elephant before it could count to five.
“That brat…”
The whole of Jilin was under the Myeon Clan’s influence.
It wouldn’t take long to locate him.
“Master!”
Soon enough, a small note arrived.
“Target located – Nari Inn.”
Jeong-hoon donned his coat, slipped the vial of Formless Poison into his sleeve,
and left the Myeon estate with his men.
